There are many things that are unique that make me...me. I honestly feel this unusual love for everyone. Highschool was a hurtful time for me and I felt disregarded and unloved. There are a lot of insecurities in teenage years, and many people deal with those insecurities by using mean and cruel words to take the focus off them and onto someone else. I've found the best way to treat that is through loving those people.
I believe what I believe. Whether it has something to do with the world, God's word, health, government....if I have an opinion about something, I have it because I've studied upon it in order to make an educated decision about it.
I'm a very affectionate person. If I can see you are hurting, chances are I'll hug you. Or if I can tell you are having a hard time talking to me about something that I know you feel is important to talk about, I'll give my shoulder to cry on, my hand to hold, and my ear to listen.
I have quirks that I like to think are pretty sweet. I like the smell of a new shower liner, the feel of thick grass under my feet, and greeting friends with hugs. I've cried before both at the beauty of God's creation, and the result of man's greed: poverty. It hurts me deep down to see a world of hurting, sick, and hungry people, when all along stars like Paris Hilton are paid $240,000 just to show up at a club and stay for 20 minutes, or when a company gives $125,000 to a charity and then spends $21 million in P.R. telling about it.

This is my life.: Where does submission end and total disregard of self begin?

Mad World: Sometimes I wonder how people would react if they knew the raw emotions that I am faced with everyday.

-Me

A Girl and Her Moss: Now, friends, I know that what you are about to read may be disturbing...maybe even downright uncomfortable...but the tale must be told.

When I was little I loved nature. Really. I literally loved it. In fact, my best friend for a number of months was a large patch of moss. It wasn't just any moss...this moss was soft...and green...and large enough for me to sit on and just absord my atmosphere.

My mom worked for this elderly lady that lived in the woods. I would go to the lady's house with my mom often, because I knew that my patch of moss would be there waiting for me divulge my latest joys and pains to it.

Then...one day...my step-brother found out about my patch of moss. His h...